Crime and Justice
by Jokerlady
Summary: This is Earth-3. A world where crime is rewarded. In this upside-down world one man painfully learns what makes a man a hero. Some call him a Jokester, others call him a Jester and he exists to make the Syndicate pay for his pain
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's note:** Ok, I know I have other stories I need to concentrate on but this little idea needed to leave my brain and here it is. This really is based on something a fan told me in one of the reviews about writing something with the Earth-3 Joker in it. I listened, and my brain sparked this idea. This is just the first chapter and if you guys like it, then more will follow. It all depends on you now. Please feel free to review._

_So here is the premise. Jack is an ordinary man. A successful comedian in a world that has no reason to laugh anymore. When the Syndicate almost destroys his world, he is forced to make some decisions that will lead him to the transformation into one of Earth-3 best known heroes. The only problem is that in Earth-3, heroes are outlawed and only the Syndicate of Crime rules. This is his story._

_And now, I'm going to confess. I knew little fo Earth-3 so I had to do a lot of research (I always do when I write but this was like a gargantuan task since there are so many versions of this Earth and this Joker.) Anyways. This version does not follow any particular trend since I liked a little bit of each version of this new universe. So what I did was to mix elements from Crisis of Infinite Earths, Countdown, and the new Animated Crisis Movie (along with other minor storylines like Trinity and all the info I could get in Wikipedia) and let it simmer for a while between the synapses. After adding a little bit of realism (sorry guys, but I'm addicted to realism) and a litlle bit of salt this is the final product. I tried to be original so this story does not follow any particular canon. Hope you like it. _

DISCLAIMER 1: I dont own Owlman, Jokester/Red Hood/Jester nor any other character in Earth-3. Some minor characters are my invention and are used for sake of the story only.

DISCLAIMER 2: Earth-3 is not a nice place. Here Crime is King so be ready for some VIOLENCE and the use of MATURE LANGUAGE.

BETA: Hope I will have one soon...in the meantime, bear with my grammar.

_**Addendum:** Someone nicely came forward and let me know of my misconception that in this Earth 3...Owlman is not Bruce, but Thomas Wayne Jr. The error is fixed and I apologize. I've probably have been writing too much Bruce/Joker that it was just automatic to keep them in this universe as well..._

**Chapter one**

It was late evening and a two weeks ago since the Comedy Factory Club was burned to the ground by Owlman and his henchmen from the Crime Syndicate over a money debt. Lloyd, the club owner, refused to pay the monthly allowance requested for their so called 'protection' so the Crime Syndicate decided to make an example of what happens when someone refuses the protection. Lloyd was dead now, and with the club permanently closed, Jack was joining the ranks of the unemployed in Gotham. Who wanted to laugh in a city that was engulfed in terror and misery? Definitely not the time to have a stand up show in Gotham City, the city of darkness.

He leaned over the window and looked at the deserted streets. Removing some wild brown curls from his forehead, he sat on the windowsill looking towards the river. It has always been that way in Gotham, ever since he could remember. The Syndicate, a collection of ill tempered, greedy superpowered criminals ran the city at their leisure and removed anybody that ever opposed them with the flair of a public execution, just to show who was boss in the city. Gotham was not alone. Evil had a talent to slither their way into every small corner of the States and strangle every single city they got their claws into. It happened with Metropolis where Ultraman was the ultimate king and many other places across the country. The thought just depressed him. How was a decent man going to be able to supply for him and his family in this vulture's nest?

"You OK, Jack?" asked the sweet voice behind him. He never wanted her to see him like this, on the verge of tears. Desperate and angry because he was forced by a bunch of bullies to bow down to their greedy whims. He let out a languid chuckle trying to humor his dark mood.

"Yeah, hon. Just thinking," he responded in a playful falsetto trying to hide the anger in his heart.

"Uh-oh. No wonder I smelled something burning."

Jack finally turned around and looked at her. Her bright blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight that entered the small living room and her blonde hair, kept in a ponytail, glowed as it was made of gold. It was such a divine sight, like a Roman Goddess, brought to life from the smooth white marble. He didn't have much, but he had her and that made all the difference. He then looked at the wheelchair his goddess sat on and his heart dropped to the floor smashing to bits. The memory of her pinned down under one of the beams from the Comedy Factory flooded him. The night when he almost lost her to the fire…to the Syndicate. He suddenly felt cold and lost. What was he going to do if he lost her?

"There's that face again…should I call the Fire Department now?" She said eyeing him worrisomely.

He couldn't help but smile. Harley was definitely the Ying to his Yang and the laughter to his tears. Tears that he refuse to share with her, especially now. She didn't deserve his sadness, no after what happened at the Club. Jeannie, his previous love, could never understand Jack's crazy humor and turned him down for a local crime lord with attachments to the Syndicate that overwhelmed her with gold, diamonds and expensive furs. He could never compete with that. Not with what he earned as a comic. Her departure left him empty and without a reason to laugh, but Harley was there in his moment of need with her smile, her whimsical humor and her love. From just being his talent agent, she soon earned a place in his heart.

"That's it…just a little wider. I know you have not forgotten how to smile, eh Jack?" His smile widened and once he got off the windowsill he started to giggle perversely and then laughed hysterically. Still laughing he lunged at her, hands high in the air and once over her started tickling her everywhere he could reach. "NO JACK, STOP, STOP, STOP!!"

"What? You started this. You woke up the Crazy Clown in me." He said as he continued tickling her on her neck and torso. Her laughter was like the water in a mountain lake; pristine and pure. She tried to protest, but Jack could read her eyes, filled with the innocence of a child at the playground, enjoying this moment as much as him.

"Jack, please, stop…" She said gasping between giggles.

"Say the word…break the spell."

"Supercalifragi…(giggle)...listicspialidocious!"

Jack suddenly stopped his attack and knelt besides her panting heavily. His curly hair, now wild and untamed fell over his green eyes hiding the joyful tears that now peeked. His mouth extended in a wide toothy smile.

"You…you broke the spell. Thank you…my Princess." He said kissing the back of her hand, then tenderly rubbing her silky hand against his cheek.

"You're welcome my royal Jester…my sweet loving clown."

"Every clown needs a harlequin. You are the joy to my tears, the verses of my poetry, the music to my songs. You…complete me."

"Flatterer…I'm sure you've told that to every girlfriend." She said eyeing him suspiciously.

"Nope. Only once…to my soulmate."

She smiled and brushed the curls from over his eyes. Those eyes that she had loved the first moment they had looked at her. "Alright. Now would you tell me what have you so worried?"

The smile in his face suddenly faded and the spark in his eyes was lost. He shook his head against his hand. "Nothing sweetheart."

"If it takes your smile away, it HAS to be important Jack. So, what is it?"

He sighed. There was no way she was going to be fooled. He set her hands on her lap and pressed his on top of them, feeling her warmth.

"After the fire at the comedy club nobody is hiring any comics anymore. I think I'll need to get one of those 'real' jobs crazy people rave about." He added a soft chuckle, but he really didn't have anything to laugh about.

"Hey, I still have some contacts. Maybe I can hook you up with something." She said. "Everybody loved your routine at the Factory."

Jack shook his head. "You could try, but I already called a few friends that owed me favors and nobody wants to move a muscle until they know they're safe from Owlman and his thugs. They're all terrified that what happened to Lloyd could happen to them."

"But Jack, what are you going to do…you love the stage."

"It's gonna be a temporary job. When things calm down, I'll be back in the spotlight," he said combing his hair with a nervous hand. He wanted so hard to believe what he was saying but he knew that as long as the Syndicate controlled the city everybody's future was uncertain. Just ask the late Lloyd Cameron…burned in this comedy club. "Who am I fooling? Things are never gonna calm down unless someone blows Owl-jerk out of the sky."

She shushed him. Talking like that was dangerous, but Jack couldn't hold his frustration anymore. "It's true Harley. No one is safe in this city with the Syndicate terrorizing us every time their demands are not met. They don't care of anything but how to squeeze more money from the poor citizens of this city."

"Jack, stop talking about that. Someone might be listening."

"Then LET THEM LISTEN! I bet you that I'm not the only one that thinks like this. People are tired of bowing to a bunch of superpowered bullies. They want their lives back."

"Jack please…"

"See what I'm telling you? Why do I have to be scared of saying what I feel? I refuse to be beaten down by a whole bunch of greedy men and women in tights. I want to tell those costumed freaks to fuck off and let me live my life in peace. I deserve it…it's my divine ri--." He stopped in midsentence when he heard her sobbing and when he looked back at her she had buried her face in her hands. "Honey, what is it?"

"You. Jack, the Syndicate controls this city and we can't do anything to change that. It's a fact of life. That I would prefer it to be otherwise? God knows I do, but I also know that THAT is not going to happen. We can only live our lives the best way we can, and not anger them. And what you do?"

"I just want us to have a safe future, Harley." He responded languidly, with his voice almost a whisper.

"And we will, Syndicate or not Syndicate. Let's just live our lives, in peace. For your sake…mine…and his."

Jack nodded. "Sure, sure. I'm sorry….wait. Who's HE?"

Harley just limited to grab his left hand and set it gently over her belly. "Him."

"OH MY GOD! Harley, you're…"

"Yes."

"A baby," he said as he busted out in a frenzied laughter. The news of the new addition to the family had lifted the black cloud of despair that had enveloped him the last few days only to be replaced by the sunniest day of summer in his life. Jack suddenly stopped and fell on his knees in front of her panting. The look of concern in his face was obvious. "Oh my god, Harley. You should have told me before. I almost tickled you to death, I could…"

"I'm fine, Jack. At least we now know that we'll have the happiest kid in Gotham because he learned to laugh before he was born…"

"Silly, Harley." He said resting his head on her belly. He could almost swear he could hear the small heartbeat of the new life growing inside her. A new life…a new beginning. "Tomorrow will be a new day, a better day."

Oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Jack arrived at the job placing agency early morning next day. He felt anxious, like the first day of school and with good reason. He had not had to search for a job in almost three years when he started his career as a comedian. He remembered. He was out fresh from school, with a bachelor's degree and the first thing he did was to stand under the spotlight and make people laugh. And he was good at it. So good that he had been able to make a good living, but that was the past. It was now time to face reality and his first challenge was to prove he could be like any other citizen of this city

Though the greatest employer in the city was Bruce Wayne from Wayne enterprises, Jack had hopes that he would be able to find something else. He wanted a new beginning for him and his family away from crime, but there were rumors that Wayne Enterprises had ties to the Syndicate. Nobody knew if the rumors were true, but Bruce Wayne was the only investor the Syndicate of Crime had not tried to stop or buy out. It spelled corruption all the way. Better to stay away from him if he could help it.

Jack noticed the four men in their business suits and suitcases already in the waiting room. They looked back at him with the fierceness of a pack of wolves ready to pounce for the greatest chuck of prey they could get, and Jack couldn't help to feel like the runt in the pack. He adjusted his purple bowtie and silently signed his name in the waiting list when a blonde man in a grey suit emerged from his office and approached him. Turning the attendance book towards him he read the names and with a big smile extended a hand out.

"Jack Napier, I'm glad you could make it in time for our appointment." Jack suspiciously shook the hand of the suited man. "Could you follow me to my office please?"

The man in the grey suit lead the way back to his office, and Jack glanced at the men still seated in the waiting room. The look in their faces was one of hatred and envy, and from being the runt of the pack, Jack suddenly felt like prey just before the kill. He held tightly to the folder with his personal documents, in case he needed to use it as a weapon, and followed the man in the grey suit to his office. At the door, the man was waiting and a large picture of Thomas Wayne Jr. stared at them from the wall behind the large desk. The austere look in the millionaire's eyes and the almost life like proportions of the picture made Jack nervous. Then a quote from George Orwell's 1984 popped in his head: '_Big Brother is watching you,_ and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end…What he was getting into?

"Please have a seat, Mr. Napier," the clerk said motioning towards his desk as he closed the office door. "Can I call you Jack?"

"I think you took me for someone else Mr…"

"Collins, but you can call me Johathan."

"Well Jonathan, I think you made a mistake because I don't have an appointment." He said as he remained standing. "And I think there were people ahead of me in the waiting room."

"Of course you had an appointment." Jonathan said letting himself heavily on his leather chair. "I couldn't leave my favorite comic waiting for hours on end in that cold waiting room. And I wouldn't worry about the…others. They probably have forgotten about you already. Now please, have a seat."

A fan, Jack thought, and he was just trying to help. Napier nodded and did as he was told. He could still feel Bruce Wayne's eyes staring down at him as he sifted uncomfortably on the chair.

"God, I can't believe it. Jack Napier, the Gotham Jester…in my office," Jonathan leaned over his desk. "When are you're going to perform next, Jack?"

"Not for a while. Need something more…permanent."

"But you're a great comic, Jack. It's your gift."

"Thanks, but it's hard to be a comic in a city that refuses to laugh."

"Excuse me?" Jonathan said eyeing Jack suspiciously.

"The fire at the Comedy Factory has made work…quite scarce."

"Oh, yeah. Poor Lloyd." Jonatha responded looking down solemnly at his interlaced hands on the desk. "But he should have known better, angering the Syndicate. You don't want enemies like that.".

Why was Jonathan telling him this? "I suppose so."

"And if he was not happy with spitting on the Syndicate's face, Lloyd started to make business with criminals." Jonathan picked a pen from the pencil holder and leaned over speaking in a secretively voice. "He was laundering money for the so called Justice League."

Jack couldn't hold his surprise at the revelation. He had known Cameron for years and though he knew about his dislike for the Syndicate, he never thought that Lloyd would have the courage to start dealings with the group of rebels known as the Justice league. The League was an amalgam of normal citizens and superpowered beings with one thing in common, bring down the Crime Syndicate. Jack praised the goal of the league, but he despised the methods they used to carry them out. Terrorism was never the solution to any type of problems, and Lloyd believed the same thing, so why would he suddenly start making business with them? It just made no sense.

"That is…unbelievable."

"Yes i know, but let's turn back to you. You need a job, right?" Jack nodded and Jonathan went on. "Great, now tell me what type of job are you looking for my friend?"

"Something in the field of chemistry will be good," Jack said handing Jonathan a copy of his resume he kept in his folder. "But I will try anything as long as it's legal."

Jonathan gave Jack a puzzled look. "I only offer 'legal' jobs."

"It's a joke." There was a moment of tension before Jonathan started to laugh. Jack took a look at Wayne's picture on the wall and smiled_. A joke, like your reputation, Tommy boy,_ he thought as he looked back at Jonathan.

"You got me there for a moment, Jack." The suit answered as he reached for a small binder beside him. He sifted the pages quickly until he found what he was looking for. "And you are on you lucky day. Wayne Enterprises is opening a new subdivision in their main headquarters and they will need scientists of all disciplines; including chemistry. "

"But Mr. Wayne has not seen my resume."

"I saw the Magna Cum Laude in Chemistry, Jack." Johnathan chuckled. "A word from me and you're in."

Jack suddenly felt sick on his stomach. This was the corruption he was so hard trying to keep away from him and his family. He didn't want to owe favors that somebody will ask him to repay later. He felt the need to leave the office.

"Are there any job openings available…somewhere else?"

Jonathan put his pen down and looked at him. "What's the problem? It's just a decent, 'legal' job. Good pay and benefits. Oh, I understand…."

Jack's body tensed as he feared the hatred he felt for Thomas Wayne and the Syndicate had been discovered.

"I know it's hard to comprehend the complexities of the working force for someone who has been in show biz for so long, but you have to understand Jack that this is the way it works. If you don't know someone somewhere, you might not get what you need, because someone else might be on the prowl for the same thing you want, and this person might have the right connections."

Jack felt he was watching a predator special in the Animal Planet Channel. What the hell had this city become?

"The men in the waiting room…'

"Exactly, some of them have it, others don't. The ones who don't have it will go home empty handed tonight to their starving families and start all over again tomorrow. Basic law of nature Jack: survival of the fittest."

Jack really wanted to leave now. A combination of anger, frustration and helplessness filled him. This is what he had fought all his life: to not be part of the system, but the system was slowly engulfing him and will soon reach for his family as well. No. He could keep the system at bay. This was no longer just about him, but about them. And they needed to eat and have a roof over their heads. Besides, it would this deal would not be forever…right?

"I see. I…" the words in his mouth started to burn like acid. "I will take the offer."

"I knew you would understand." Jonathan retrieved a few forms from one of the drawers in his desk and after filling some information in them rose from the chair and walked past Jack towards the door. "I will have these signed and get you a copy in no time. Just wait for me here, OK?"

Jack nodded silently, as he questioned in his mind the choice of accepting a job at Wayne Enterprises. He glared at the picture of the millionaire on the wall with loath. He had to do what he had to do for his family, but from this day on, no more favors and no more compromises. He will make heaven for his family and himself in the middle of hell, and the devil will respect him for what he was.

His thoughts were interrupted by an explosion outside that made the whole office rumble. Papers scattered on the floor and pencils and pens were knocked off the desk. Smaller and more distant explosions followed. Then he heard a murmur on the waiting room outside. Whatever that was, had to be big, he thought as he rose from the chair. As he headed out of the office, the ground shook violently and he fell to the ground hitting his knees on the floor. The glass entrance had been shattered and while the waiting room was empty, there were people screaming on the streets and pointing up into the sky. He tried to get up the floor when he was startled by a hand pulling at his elbow. Jonathan had returned and was now trying to help him to his feet.

"What was that?" Jack asked.

"The League, those murderers…" Jonathan said panting as he pulled Jack aside. "They're attacking the subway, killing hundreds."

"Why?"

"It's the League, Jack, why else?" Jonathan handed him a small folder. "Here, everything is in order, get to Wayne Enterprises tomorrow nine a.m. Now stay clear until the Syndicate takes care of League. It's not safe out there."

Another explosion shook the building's foundation and Jack wondered if the building was a safe place at all. Jonathan had scurried out of sight and left him alone. It might not be safe out there in the streets, but he couldn't think of anything worse than dying crushed by three stories of masonry just before starting a new job. He wasn't going to meet his end here.

Walking gingerly amidst a layer of debris, glass, and paper he reached the entrance and peeked out checking both sides of the street. There was a thin cloud of smoke and dust covering the whole length of the avenue but most of the action was located three blocks north from where he stood. He looked up in the direction the people had pointed at before and the large shadow of the Owlplane passed above him. It was an impressive machine, and it was loaded with impressive weapons as well. Weapons it was firing at armored people in the sky.

A man in a gold and black armor fired an energy beam at the Owlplane hitting one of the engines. The large plane maneuvered erratically out of sight and two more armored individuals joined the golden figure in the air. With the motion of his hands the golden one quickly told the others to scatter. They obeyed without hesitation. More hand signals and Jack immediately knew this guy was the leader of the pack and independently of who he was, if he had had the guts of firing on Owlman, he had his eternal gratitude. Someone should show that cowled freak the same kindness he had showed the city...or Lloyd.

Jack looked down the opposite of the street away from the golden one. If he made a run for it, he might be able to reach his car and drive out of here to safety. It was then that he saw the golden figure been ambushed by two of Owlman's superpowered thugs. _Sneaky bastards_, but they were not expecting the golden one's force field to thwart their efforts. The golden leader turned quickly towards its attackers and fired a beam of green light from his hand. Both thugs fell to the ground. The golden figure removed the shattered helmet covering his head and Jack recognized him immediately. Lex Luthor, leader of the League. The most wanted man in Gotham, Metropolis and six other states. Luthor crushed the helmet in his hands, screamed some commands to his troops and flew away. For Jack, this was the moment he was waiting for to get away from here.

As he sprinted down the street, he saw a large ball of fire aimed directly at him. With reflexes that could only spring from adrenaline pumping through his veins, Jack ran across the street and up a staircase to the safety of the Romanesque colonnade that ran along the façade of the Weiler Building. The fireball hit just where he had been standing just moments before and left a large hole in the ground. The work placing office lay in ruins as the building collapsed over the now debilitated foundation. He thought of Jonathan and the other men, bystanders in a fight that was taking too many lives. Then from the center of the crater, a figure emerged enveloped in a white glowing light that quickly dissipated. Within the light was a woman with fiery golden hair and without her protective light, Jack saw that she was badly injured and she was bleeding heavily from the side of her yellow costume.

The woman tried to move away from the crater, but only managed to advance a few steps before falling heavily on her face. She spat blood and with undeniable determination she rose again. In her hand she held tightly to a blood stained white bag that she was trying hard to conceal from view. Jack observed the woman fighting to remain conscious, advancing just a few paces at a time, before falling over. The fourth time she fell, the woman didn't rise, and Jack's heart crushed. The memories of Harley pinned under the remains of the roof of the Comedy Factory came back to him. It was like relieving the moment again and again. No matter what side this woman was on, no one deserved to die like this…alone.

Jack carefully looked around and saw the streets still deserted. No one was coming for him…or for her. He then crossed the street and met the woman on the ground. She was barely breathing and the pale look in her face confirmed to him that this woman was bleeding to death and needed to be rush to a hospital…fast. He made an effort to lift her and carry her out of there, when she pushed him and scurried away.

"Wait, I don't want to harm you," Jack said to comfort her as he knelt just feet away. She raised a hand that glowed menacingly with an intense white light. "You're seriously injured. You need a doctor. Please let me help you."

She instinctively looked at the bloody spot on her side, and then glared at him. "If you take me to a hospital…they will let me die."

"Nonesense." Jack was taken aback by her words. "If you stay here, you will die too."

"Why do you want to help me?" She whispered. The spark in her eyes was fading fast and she dropped her glowing hand to support herself.

"Because this stupid war has taken too many lives."

"And why do you care? You're part of the system."

"I'm just a man trying to help, please let me take you to a hospital."

"You're not like the rest of this city." She retched and spit a mouthful of blood. Jack rushed to her side but she threatened him with the white bag she had tried to conceal. "My time here is almost over…I did what had to be done. If you want to help me, take this with you and hide it far away from here. The Syndicate should never put their claws on it. Do you understand?"

"Why, what is in there?" Jack asked timidly.

"The least you know the better for you or your loved ones. Just take it and destroy it." The woman panted heavily. "Please…if you want to save someone…save the city...from the Syndicate."

"Only if you come with me. You need a doctor," he said seizing the bag and getting ready to pick her up.

"Stubborn little man. This is more important than you or me. The whole world…depends…on it. The League is…" With the last word, she exhaled. Her red eyes darkened while they were still staring at him, pleading for him to finish the mission she had started. But why? This was not his war. He just wanted to raise a family away from all this violence, and now he was in the middle of it all. He could just leave the bag there and go, but something told him that doing that would just make this woman's death useless. She had given her last spark of life to keep, whatever it was, away from the Syndicate. Maybe this was his chance to do something worthwhile. Hit the Syndicate where it hurt most.

Jack looked nervously around him. The city was deserted. In the distance, he could see sparks of light in crisscrossing patterns. The fight for the skies continued and hopefully Luthor still commanded his minions against the Syndicate's murderous hordes. Jack grabbed the bag, concealed within his business suit and ran with all his might to the public parking building three blocks away. If he reached his car without any incident he would be out of danger, and disposing of the contents of the bag would be easy. He will tell no one. This will be his anonymous contribution to a better Gotham.

* * *

Well, now you let me know if you think this story should continue. (*cups hand to ear*)


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: **_I guess that four reviews, a few favs and an alert mean that there are people out there who like Joker-Earth 3 stories. And that also means that I'm indebted to those readers to go on, the reason that I'm posting this story. And I have to thank my anomymous BATMAN 21 for the idea because this is really fun to write since I have to invert all preconceptions that I might have on the characters without taking out their essence. Easier said than done, believe me. Jack has to sound like Joker, but he is really not Joker...see what I mean? Anyways, here is the next chapter for your enjoyment. Like always, please...PLEASE...let me know if you like what you read. Reviews are very welcomed and encouraged._

_DISCLAIMER 1: I don't own Owlman or any related character. They are property of DC COMICS and I make no money of writing this._

_DISCLAIMER 2: There will be instances of ADULT language and SITUATIONS as well as some violence. Please be warned_

_BETA: Still beta-less so bear with my writing (Thanks to HAHA for pointing my mistake in my previous chapter. It was promptly fixed.)_

_**Addendum: **Thanks to a knowledgable fan, I was shown of my mistake writing Owlman as this universe's Bruce Wayne. I knew but still wrote it automatically with Brucie. I corrected the mistake and from now own, Owlman is Thomas Wayne._

**Crime and Justice: Chapter 2**

Jack grabbed his tray and swiftly glanced around the mess room for a place to sit for lunch. The place was packed, typical of this time of day and finding a place to sit was going to be an adventure. Suddenly he saw the light at the end of the tunnel. On the back of the room two men and a woman were getting ready to leave their table. With his tray high in the air, Jack maneuvered his thin body as fast as he could through the sea of people filling the mess room until he reached the table and set his food on it triumphantly as he reached for a chair.

"Mind if I join you?" came a voice from behind him. The man, with a fiery red curly hair and bright blue eyes smiled warmly at him. Jack responded with another smile as he looked around him. There was no other place to sit and the table was large enough for more than one. Damn. He couldn't just be an asshole… not after just two weeks on the job.

"Sure, go ahead." He said sitting at the table as he was quickly joined by the other worker. Jack just ignored the man in front of him as he pulled a red notebook from his back pocket and started to scribble on it.

"You're Jack Napier…right?" The man said taking a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. Jack nodded silently as he kept writing on his notebook while sipping on his soda. "I saw your show when you were at the _Improv_."

Jack ears perked. The_ Improv_ had been the place where he started over two years ago. Now it was a franchise and though he performed there every once in a while as a favor for old friends he had maintained away from those type of clubs. He couldn't recall of anyone that remembered him from the_ Improv_.

"That was a long time ago, you know?" Jack said looking at the red haired man with some interest.

"Yeah, a few years." The re-haired man in front of him drank noisily from his water bottle. "You're not performing anymore?"

"I'm between shows now." Jack said waving the notebook in his hand.

"I see…creating new material?"

"You could say that…but I seem to have hit a writer's block…or is it a comedy block?" Jack chuckled as he set his notebook away. "My muse is in sabbatical. Anyways, you know me, but I have no idea who the hell you are."

The man offered his clean hand in a handshake. "Johnny Flanders. I work at biomedical research."

Jack returned the friendly gesture and felt a tingly sensation on the palm of his hand. Napier wiggled his fingers and cleaned the hand on a napkin. "Yeah, right by my lab at Special Projects. You've been here long?"

"A year and a half. And you?"

"Two weeks. So, what you guys do at Biomedical?" Jack inquired taking a bite from his turkey sandwich.

"Along with Wayne Cybertronics we are developing exoskeletons for people with spinal injuries." Johnny sipped from his water. "Special Projects is a new division, I'm not too clear on what they do but I've heard it has to do with the space program. What are you guys working on?"

Jack took a moment to drink from his soda cup and study Johnny. Too many questions always made him nervous and very suspicious. "Everybody has his own project. Mine is simple…I'm just watching atoms burn."

"What?" Johnny inquired quizzically

"Joke, Johnny." Jack licked the mayonnaise from his fingers. "I'm working with fire retardant materials."

"Oh, sorry. I wasn't ---." Johnny replied when he noted Jack's wandered towards the large plasma TV that silently displayed the local news. At the bottom of the screen, captions described the latest attack of the Justice League in the docks. Johnny looked over his shoulder towards the screen, then back at Jack.

"They say the League attacked three ships last night. Blew them to pieces." Flanders explained with his eyes fixed on Jack's.

"Really?"

"Yeah, two cruise liners and one warship, but the League sent a document to the press stating that they were to stop the ships from leaving with their drug shipments but never intended on destroying them." Flanders paused to see Jack's reaction to his information, but he was just calmly dipping his fries one by one in ketchup.

"They are terrorists, Johnny." Jack said cleaning his fingers on a napkin. "That is what the news says."

"I don't know what to make of them. You can't trust the news these days either, you know?

"Why not? This is a free country, and we still have freedom of speech." Jack responded trying to sound impartial, but he had a hard time believing the world around him many times.

"Freedom to speak words provided from which side, Jack?" Johnny said swirling a piece of bread in his hand like a flag. "I just say that we can't believe everything we hear these days. Like the attack on the subway a few weeks ago. They said it was the League, but there is rumor that they were protecting the subway, not attacking it."

Jack remembered. That was the day he was searching for a job and he instead found himself trapped between of two fighting super-powered factions. "And who was attacking it then?"

"They say it was…" Johnny leaned over and spoke in a low whispering voice. "…the Syndicate. Someone had stolen something from them and the carrier was on the subway."

"You don't say." Jack said finishing his sandwich in one large bite that he followed with soda. He really wanted to finish now and go back to work forgetting this very moment. This conversation about the Syndicate and the League was making him nervous. Did anybody see him with the flying woman that day? Did anybody saw him take the bag with the stolen property and run with all his might away of the scene? "Were did you hear that?"

"In the streets. Some eyewitnesses are coming forward and telling the media what they saw."

_Damn, there are witnesses now, _Jack thought as he forced himself to swallow the last bite of sandwich. "You know, not everything people say is true either."

Johnny smiled. "You're right. I just say that one has to be careful with what one hears on the news."

Jack put his notebook back in his pocket, picked his tray and started to leave. The sooner the better. "I'll remember that. Well, have to get back to my burning atoms. See you around, Johnny."

"Sure Jack." Johnny extended his hand to shake when Jack shrugged showing his full hands. Flanders nodded and drank from his water as he saw Jack drop his trash on a nearby bin and left the mess hall in what looked like a hurry. Once alone, Johnny lifted his water bottle and smiled. "I'll definitely see you around."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Jack couldn't concentrate the rest of the afternoon. Johnny's words resonated in his brain like a jackhammer. There were eyewitness to the events of last week, and Jack wondered if there had been witnesses to his little exchange with the Leaguer. He wasn't trying to meet any of the super-powered freaks of the city that day, it was an accident and without knowing he could have just set his family and himself in danger.

_Damn! Why did it have to happen to me?_ He thought as he tapped angrily at the keys on his laptop. All he wanted was a stupid job to care for his family and the Syndicate seemed to be trying to screw his life one way or the other. And that was not the worst of his problems. He still had the bag the woman had given him to destroy. He knew that the best thing was for that bag to disappear from the face of the earth, but once he took a look of its contents (which he knew was a mistake on his part), he just couldn't let go. Inside, where were a myriad of mechanical wonders that just picked at his natural scientific curiosity. Tiny marble grenades, a few canisters of a mysterious gas he had not been able to identify, and that odd piece of circuitry that made half the weight of the bag.

He should have destroyed the contents, but why destroy it when maybe they could put them to good use? _Because it belonged to_ _the Syndicate, you moron,_ he thought to himself. Instead of asking questions he should be just forget about the whole thing and dispose of the bag like the lady asked her before dying. _Forever…bye, bye…gone…bon voyage…arivederci to my problems_. But he needed to understand what the equipment was before disposing of it, just…because. He couldn't let that knowledge be lost forever.

"You OK, Napier?" one of his colleagues asked leaning beside him.

"I…I don't think I got the molecular structure of this polymer right," Jack lied pointing at the small dots on the screen. The other man, in his late twenties, wearing thick glasses and a brown bowtie, pulled up the long sleeves of his oversized lab coat and pointed at the numbers beside the dots with long bony fingers.

"It seems like the configuration is stable and possible. I don't see the problem."

"I don't know…it just doesn't feel right…" Jack retorted trying to pull the name of the young scientist from his memory. "...Jonathan."

"Why don't you try it in the 3D modeler? Maybe if you see it in three dimensions you will see your mistake."

"That is…a good idea," he responded when someone called for their attention at the entrance door. All scientists turned and Jack saw his supervisor by the door beaming with joy at a surprised guest and his mind wondered off. _Oh joy…just what I need today…a jerk meeting._

"We have a wonderful visitor today. A man engaged with the vision of improving the life of his fellow citizens. A progressive mind that has brought this division to life to fulfill his dream of a competitive Gotham in the realm of technology "...Mr. Thomas Wayne."

"Thanks for the introduction, Dr. Levi, but I have just come to see in what you boys waste my money." Wayne said with a chuckled and everybody joined him in laughter. Jack just sneered and wondered who wrote the millionaire's material, because he was not funny.

"Jerk," Jonathan muttered returning to his work.

"You OK over there?" Jack said leaning over the large bench.

"Fine. Busy. Have work to do."

"But Mr. Wayne is here," Jack said in a playful tone when Jonathan turned around and glared at him. Jack just smiled. "It's recess. And after this…naptime." Jack yawned and Jonathan smiled back almost imperceptibly.

"Dr. Crane," The supervisor said approaching their bench with a stiff gait and hands clasped behind the nicely pressed blue lab coat. Behind him, the millionaire followed closely. "Mr. Wayne is interested on your progress."

"Yes, I would like to see if all my money can protect our troops in Irak."

"Well, that's nice. But I had to reconstruct the structure of the compound from memory since…" Crane paused momentarily to catch his breath. He exchanged looks between Wayne and the supervisor then adjusted his thick glasses nervously over his long nose when he noticed the serious look on the millionaire's face. "Anyways, I'm halfway through that now. I'll have a complete formula next week…maybe."

"Good to hear that, Dr. Crane." The millionaire said aloud for everyone to hear. "That is what I like to hear of all my employees. Determination to finish their job despite adversity. You gentlemen, are heroes…working for a better Gotham and for a better world."

There was a short round of applause to the encouraging words and Crane, smiled softly returning to his computer station. The supervisor continued the tour through the lab's different stations when Wayne stopped in front of Jack.

"You look familiar," the millionaire said solemnly. "Have we met?"

"Jack Napier…the Gotham Jester," Jack bowed gently. "…at your service."

"The comedian?"

"Who happens to know a thing of two of chemistry it seems." Dr. Levi said disdainfully. Jack ignored the scientist.

"You were that comedian at the Factory…" Wayne said. "I remember, now. You were part of the bunch of lame comics in that place. Don't take me wrong. I think you...were funny"

_Well, thanks, Jerk! _Jack thought. The irony of the comment didn't prevent him from getting angry. There were many other fellow comedians that had gone through that stage that were as good as or even better than him and deserved his respect, especially those that died that night. But this was not the place to show his discontent and not in front of his boss. Jack limited himself to force a smile.

"So you abandoned the stage for a bunch of…numbers and molecules." Wayne said with a sneered.

"Not really, I'm just taking a sabbatical to see why here atoms like to stick to each other. It must be the big fat paycheck."

Wayne seemed bothered by the comment, but wasn't sure how to react. It sounded like a joke, but it seemed like the comedian was rubbing his money on his face. Thomas just smiled, patted Jack on a shoulder proceeded with the tour of the laboratory. Crane leaned closer to Napier and whispered.

"That was funny, but be careful. He signs your checks."

"Why? I just thought the guy needed to laugh a little more. Looked kind of stiff."

"Humor is not his thing. Just…be careful." Crane insisted returning to his work. Jack did the same too and returned to his molecular model.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

By the time Jack arrived home, the sun had already set down behind the cityscape. He never knew what rush hour traffic meant until he was stuck for two hours in the interstate on his way home. It was time to find an alternate route, or he would have to move closer to Wayne Enterprise's building. When he arrived at his apartment, he found Harley on the on the phone with one of her clients. With a gentle kiss on the forehead he greeted her on his way to the kitchen. He checked the pots on the stove and sniffed the air. Roast. He felt his mouth fill with saliva at the image of the fat juicy roast cooking in the oven. _Pavlov's conditioning,_ he thought as he panted and barked at the pots. He went over to the fridge and poured himself a glass of water. Harley wheeled herself into the kitchen.

"Where you barking?" Harley said entering the kitchen. Jack shrugged apologetically sporting a large innocent smile across his face. Harley giggled. "Silly. How was your day at work?"

"Busy. Mr. Wayne decided to pay us a surprise visit to our division. I don't know what to make of that guy."

"You don't need to marry him, sweetheart. He just needs to sign your checks."

Jack chuckled softly as he continued exploring the pots simmering on the stove top. "Yeah, I know that, but I don't like him. He has a hard time…laughing. I don't like people with no sense of humor."

"You should know you can't please all the audience at once."

"He just gives me the creeps. Anyways, you know what? Someone was saying that the attack on the subway the other day was done by the Syndicate, not the League."

"Jack, you promised we were not going to talk about that."

"I know, I'm just saying. Maybe the League is just like us…victims of the system."

"The League is a terrorist group."

"And that is also true." Jack said noticing the uncomfortable look on her face. He pulled two clean dishes from the covert and set them side by side on the counter. Time to switch subjects. "Well…I saw you cooked one juicy roast tonight. What's the occasion?"

"Just…felt like it. To celebrate your anniversary at work." Harley flashed one of her irresistible smiles at him.

"Just two weeks dear," he said with a chuckle. "Do I get a trip to Tahiti for my first full month?"

Harley laughed. "What about a chance to perform at the new Factory."

"What?" He said turning around with a large serving spoonful of rice shaking in his hand. She rushed to catch the falling grains from his spoon with a soft hand.

"Jack, you're gonna leave rice all over the floor." He smiled timidly and poured the rice in one plate. Harley went over and grabbed a loaf of bread that she started slicing. Jack walked over and stood besides her cleaning his hands with a dish towel.

"What did you say about the Factory?"

"Remember Stewart, from the _Improv_?" Jack nodded silently when he clearly remembered the owner of the _Improv_. The man, partnered with two old friends from high school, had amassed a large amount of money opening several similarly themed comedy clubs throughout the city. There were all small at the beginning, but they had become the starting stages for many famous comics. Now the clubs were established names in the comic field. "Well, he bought the rights from Lloyd's partners and he is opening a new Comedy Factory in Downtown."

"In Downtown? Wow, that's awesome. And he's keeping the name?"

"That's what he wants, for Lloyd." She set the bread on a small wicker basket and put it on the diminutive dinner table. "And he wants you to do the opening night if you're available." He stared at her with his dropped jaw. She smiled at the sight of a man who couldn't shut up, being now at a loss of words.

"Really…well…yeah, but it has to be a Friday." Jack stuttered nervously. "Have to work all week and can't…are you serious, Harley?"

"Why would I make that up, Jack?"

"Not it's just that…wow. That is great news." He said as placing a second serving of rice in another dish.

"Yeah, he wants to open in about a month. So I can call him to confirm?"

"Sure, sure. Wow, Harley. The Factory…in Downtown. That is going to be THE place to be on the weekends."

"And you'll be there to jumpstart your career. You're going back into the stage, Jack." Harley applauded effusively.

"Yeah, but I want to keep the job at Wayne Enterprises. You know…just in case. I don't want to be caught off guard like last time."

"OK, keep it as long as you want. I'll set your schedules around it. Right now be a sweetheart and serve the roast, because I'm starving."

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Thomas Wayne entered the dark vaulted space of the Cave with a hasty pace, his feet hitting hard on the metal flooring with each step. On the low ceiling garage, a young man in his early twenties was working in a black and red motorcycle and when he noticed the millionaire on the cave floor, he jumped over the railing to meet him. A look into Wayne's eyes warned the young man to keep his distance.

"Everything OK, Tom?"

"I still have not been able to find out the spy at Wayne Enterprises."

"You're still thinking about that? Maybe Luthor just hacked into the computers."

"Luthor is not that stupid. He knows Owlman would have tracked the hack in no time. Someone must have helped him from inside and I'm going to find who."

"Well, does that mean that the project is off?"

"No. Not when we arere so close, Talon." Thomas stepped on a raised pedal on the metal grid that made the floor and a large chamber rose with a loud whirling noise. Once the chamber was fully above ground, he opened the doors to reveal a large silver armor with a grey cowl and a cape made of metal feathers.

"But if someone is still inside, Luthor will have the heads up of what we're doing."

"Oh, he knows what we're doing. He just doesn't know how to stop us."

"I don't understand. You want Luthor to know?"

"I want Luthor to feel confident. If he thinks he has fooled Owlman and the Syndicate he will be careless, and that will be his mistake."

"Luthor doesn't make mistakes." The young man said when he was surprised by a jab that sent him across the floor to end up against one of the cave walls.

"IDIOT! Sometimes I wonder what side you're on, Talon. Everybody makes mistakes, even Luthor and when he does, I'll be there to see him pay dearly for it. I already took care of his wife and it's just a matter of time before I take care of him."

"I...I'm sorry, Tom," Talon said with an angry undertone in his voice as he rose from the floor. "I just hate to think what Luthor can do with too much information. Look what happened to the Phasic Transducer…lost"

Wayne growled and crouched. The least he needed now was to be reminded of his shortcomings and failures. Talon backed off a few paces, his muscles tensed for the possible attack. Thomas just huffed and went back to work on his costume.

"He will know only what I want him to know, nothing else." Thomas said suiting up on the armored costume. "Now go and dress up. The Syndicate has called an emergency meeting I don't want to miss. We have much to do before we can snare Luthor."

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Jack arrived very early in the morning to his laboratory in the sixth floor of the Wayne Enterprise and like he was hoping, no one has arrived yet. The flexibility of schedules at the laboratory was a blessing. It allowed him to start his work one hour earlier so he could leave one hour before everybody else. He needed that extra hour this evening for rehearsal. The opening of the new Comedy Factory, only three weeks away, required that he prepared one his best shows to date. That would be the only way to return to his home…the stage.

He set his backpack inside his locker at the entrance and walked over to his computer station waking up his CPU from the overnight slumber. While the system rebooted, he noticed the computer beside him was still on, and a small flash drive was still embedded in the USB drive.

"Crane…that absentminded professor," Jack muttered walking over to the active computer. "I wonder if he knows he left his flash drive in here. This could get him in trouble…actually…this could get us all in trouble."

Jack looked around and noticed there was no sign the scientist have been there. The system had probably been on since the day before. That would not make Dr. Levi happy and would probably result in a reprimand to Crane for leaving classified work behind. Better turn off the computer and return the flash drive to his rightful owner without making a fuss. Jack pressed the space key and the screen lit back up with a large molecule floating in the middle of the simulated three-dimensional space. Below the graphic was a description of the picture:

**NERVE GAS SCHEMATIC 09433: Characteristics: psychotropic gas, hallucinogenic. Adrenergic activation can cause cardiac arrhythmias, cardiac arrest. Lethal after prolonged exposure. No known antidote.**

"What the hell are you working on, Johathan?" Jack murmured as he continued scrolling down the screen. A previous version of the gas, the 09432, had been tested in several voluntary human subjects already, but with disastrous results. The hallucinations had left people either mad of with a one way trip to the next world. Jack's stomach turned upside down and he felt the urge to bring his breakfast back up. Testing in human subjects? That was just sick.

"What are you doing here?" He heard Cranes dissonant voice from behind him. Jack turned to explain, but the scientist lunged at him fast, pinning him to the bench. "You're not supposed to be here, what were you doing with my computer…?"

"Hey…calm down." Jack said between gasps as he got pressed against large table. He could smell the cigarette smoke from Crane's coat, and he could read the fury behind those brown eyes. He knew that if he didn't put distance between him and the scientist, he was in trouble. "I'm sorry, Jonathan. I thought you were not here…and you had left the computer on."

"I didn't and that is none of your business, Napier. It's not your computer station."

"I know…just wanted…GOD! Can you get off me?" Jack tried to push Crane away without much success. The scientist might be thin and weak looking, but underneath the lanky frame was a man with the power of a bulldozer.

"You are in trouble, Napier. How much did you read from my research?"

"I don't know, Crane, maybe a paragraph? I'm sorry." Jack fought to refill his lungs of precious air. "I will tell no one. I swear. Whatever you want, I'll do, just get off me, please. I can hardly breathe."

Jonathan eyed the chemist suspiciously. "Why wouldn't you tell anybody? Didn't they pay you to spy my research?"

"Pay me? No, idiot. I just wanted to…to save you a reprimand for leaving the flash drive behind. That's all. Nobody else needs to know."

"And why would you care…?"

"Crane…" Jack growled butting the scientist's head. Jonathan let go of him and fell in his knees. Napier took a deep breath that felt like the most wonderful experience in the whole world, and thrust his knee into Crane's face smashing the scientist's glasses onto his face. Jonathan fell, face down onto the floor. "I said GET OFF MEE!."

"I'm going to kill you. I'm going to kill you…" Crane muttered on the floor while holding his face in his hands.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Jonathan? I said was sorry. Wasn't that enough for you?"

"You don't understand..."

"I understand is that you're crazy. Now, if you allow me to say it once more…I am sorry. I can say it in three other languages if you want me to."

"You don't understand…nobody should have seen that research." Crane said using his hands to prop himself up in the sitting position. "It is my research…"

"Look, Einstein… I don't want to steal your Nobel Prize in Chemistry. I just want to start early on my project so I can get the hell out of here and practice my routine."

"Routine?"

"Yeah, like in…comedy routine? I have a show coming and I need to rehearse. I was planning on saving an hour if I started my shift early."

"That's why you are here?" Jack nodded rubbing his forehead. "It's just that nobody comes this early…I thought it was safe to leave the computer a few moments while I went to get a snack."

"Well, next time don't, and please learn to think before reacting. Boy, do you work out?"

"No,why?"

"You're stronger than you seem, Crane." Napier massaged his chest.

The scientist smiled subtly as he put away his now his useless eyeglasses. "You are not going to tell about my research?"

Jack sighed. "I told you already…no. Whatever you're doing is your business."

"But you saw what it was…"

"And I'm already forgetting. Can we just start this over…from the top?" Jack walked over to Crane and offered a hand to help the scientist on his feet. "Good morning, Dr. Crane. Good to see you this lovely morning."

Crane accepted the help and once on his feet started to ease the creases on his coat. The white lab coat really looked too large for the scientist's frame.

"Good morning…you're really not going to tell?"

"Tell what, Jonathan?" Jack responded with a smile. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to get to work. Need to leave early so I can practice some of my jokes."

"You're weird, you know that?"

"And you're…well, you're just you. Lanky like a scarecrow, strong like an ox. Nice talking to you but I have work to do. TA, TA." With a gentle bow Jack sat at his computer station and started working on the polymer structure. Crane turned his station off and took the flash drive from the port. He looked over Jack's shoulder to the computer monitor. Napier could feel the pair of eyes piercing the back of his neck and had a chill.

"It's not polite to stare."

"And it's not polite to mess with somebody else's work."

Jack paused his typing and remained still for a moment. "I am sorry. How else you want me to tell you?"

"Whatever. And if you don't fix that angle between the molecules in your polymer, oxygen will get in between the gaps." Crane gesticulated violently. "POOOOFF! Gone in a blaze of glory, along with whoever wears it."

Was Crane critizicing his job or giving him a technical tip? It was hard to know from the angry tone of the comment. Jonathat turned in his heels and left the lab. Jack turned to see the long thin figure disappear between the two brown doors, and tried to comprehend what had just happened. He had known Crane for two weeks now and it never stroke him as the violent type, until today. Weird behavior over one simple scientific project. _No, correction…one very sick scientific project_. Again, Jack wished he wouldn't have seen anything, for now he was wary about the projects this company was working on. Maybe it was time to look for a new job…yeah, flipping hamburgers at a McDonald's looked very attractive right now. At least no one could kill with a Big Mac…could they?


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Note: **Sorry for the delay posting but this have been a few crazy weeks, drawing, painting, working, writing, and developing two Joker sites. Anyways, made time to continue this story that seems to have found a place in your hearts. I really appreciate the time and the support the fans have offered me with this story and I hope I can keep entertaining you all._

_Please feel free to drop me a note or a review to share your thoughts on the story. We writers depend on your voice as much as our imaginations to write. Sometimes the best ideas come from fans (like this story that was one fan's idea). For now, just relax and enjoy the chapter that was written with a lot of love for you all._

_DISCLAIMER 1: Owlman, Joker, Jokerster and related characters belong to DC COMICS_

_DISCLAIMER 2: Sometimes there will be instances of MATURE LANGUAGE and SITUATIONS. You have been warned before you read._

_BETA: There is no beta in this project, so be kind enough to point out any problems or confusions._

**Crime and Justice Chapter 3**

By the time Owlman and Talon arrived at the meeting hall at the Syndicate's headquarters all the other crime lords were already seated at the large oblong table on the center of the meeting room. At the head of the table, like always, was Ultraman who used his out-wordly superiority to guarantee his place on top of the organization. And everybody respected that. Nobody wanted to challenge an ill-tempered average human astronaut turned superhuman being with the strength of one hundred men and the ability to burn a hole through somebody's heads with just a look.

"You're late," Superwoman said stretching suggestively on her leather chair. Her black curls fell over the exposed shoulders of her costume and Olwman couldn't hold a subtle smile. He knew exactly what she was trying to do, especially in front of Ultraman. Superwoman loved danger, and Wayne loved the thrill of living on the edge of danger itself.

"Had things to tend to," Tom responded quickly exchanging the timid smile into an angry glare. "You should be glad that I'm here instead of complaining about my punctuality."

"I don't like your tone, Wayne." Ultraman growled from his place at the head of the table.

"Thought we were not supposed to use our names in meetings….Kent." Owlman retorted as he pulled a chair and sat down. "Just keep your girlfriend in line and mind your own business."

"Can we stop the bickering and go on with the business at hand?" Johnny Quick interceded. His voice harsh and tired. "The League attacked another of my shipments last night. I lost three million dollars in one hour."

"And a shipment of your speed juice too I'm sure."

Johnny rose and started to vibrate uncontrollably at super-speed causing the room to start vibrating with him. Ultraman held the speedster by an arm forcing him down onto his chair.

"That hurts."

"What is going to hurt even more is the roof falling on your head, Quick. Now calm down and you," Ultraman pointed a blue gloved finger towards Owlman and Talon, "better watch your mouth."

"You really thought that making the attack look like the League's doing would prevent the media from knowing what was on those ships?"

"You did what, Ultraman?" Johnny quick inquired angrily

"The ships are at the bottom of the harbor and thanks to Barracuda, no one will ever tie them to drugs or us. The media can talk all they want, but will have no proof. I will be surprised if anynobody remembers this incident by next week."

"Kent, those where my drugs." Johnny protested.

"Necessary loss, Johnny," Ultraman growled. "Now shut up and stop whining. You'll survive."

Owlman snorted angrily. "It just surprises me that you called this meeting for something so stupid as Quick's drug shipment. The League has infiltrated into Wayne Enterprises and I seemed to have inherited your…little problem."

"Luthor?" Power Ring asked with his green ring glowing brightly in his right hand. "Luthor is in Gotham?"

"A few weeks ago he tried to protect the subway with the spy carrying my transducer and other pieces of technology that were stolen from my developing laboratories."

"So that was not an isolated attack?" Superwoman asked leaning forward with interest. Ultraman rested his arms on the table and glared at the cowled figure.

"No, I have information that Luthor and his League have moved their headquarters from Metropolis to Gotham. He's becoming a real pain in my ass thanks to you, Ultraman."

"So he couldn't handle me." Kent finally said with a malicious smile extending wide. "The coward couldn't take it and ran with the tail between his legs."

"Are you even listening to me, you big idiot? Luthor is in Gotham, probably regrouping with his…criminal team to strike back at us. Aren't you worried?"

There was a few moments of tense silence at the meeting table. Ultraman leaned comfortably on the edge and chuckled.

"Not a bit. And I thought you had killed the spy."

"I did."

"And Luthor's wife?"

"I killed her too. Your point...?

"Then you got your transducer back."

Owlman took his time to respond. Ultraman became impatient.

"You did, didn't you?" Kent pressed on.

"Astra didn't have it when we found her body."

The Kryptonian rose angrily tossing the chair across the room. "WHAT? You're telling me that Luthor and his stray sheep have a working model of the phasic transducer? You know what he can do to us with that?" Ultraman rose from his chair and the table in front of Owlman started to smoke.

"Before you make a hole to the center of the earth, I can tell you that Luthor doesn't have it either."

"Are you sure?" Johnny said spurting words so fast that it almost sounded like gibberish. "How do you know…there's no way of knowing that with certainty…no way."

"If he had it, he would have used it already, or would have brought it to the public eye to discredit me."

"Maybe he doesn't know how to use it yet."

"Ultraman, what part of Luthor has a spy inside my company you didn't get? He could get the instruction manual if we let him and that is why we have to act quickly and stop him before he can get access to any more of my technology."

"From your tone I take that you have a plan."

"Of course I do and I have the bait to lure him out of hiding. I just need the help of the Syndicate to hit him and his minions with everything we got. Wouldn't it be good to have his cadaver so you can drag him through Metropolis' streets? That will show off your power better than having him escape your police to hide in a neighboring city so he can plan your demise."

"You really know how to make your case, Owlman. Let's hear this plan of yours and see if we can rid ourselves of the League once and for all."

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

The morning had been uneventful at the Special Project lab. Everybody worked hard on their projects, and thanks to certain insights from colleagues Jack had been able to fix the problems on his polymer design, but there was still the 'Crane problem'. Jonathan Crane had been unusually quiet in his station, working long complex formulas and chemical structures. Napier could feel the tension between him and the scientist. Every time Jack stretched or moved around in his seat, Crane was quick to look at him suspiciously and cover whatever he was doing at the computer at that time. It was getting to be very annoying, but if the scientist dreamed of getting a prize for driving people mad or burying them underground, he was nobody to take that away from him. He just wished that right now Jonathan worked at the other end of the room instead of right beside him.

Jack looked at his watch and smiled. Ten minutes for noon and that meant one hour of lunch away from the scarecrow. He started closing windows in his computer when he got a network alert. He opened the file and read on. He was required to meet with his supervisor before leaving for lunch. _Great…now what do these creeps want? _He thought as he glanced hatefully at Crane beside him. Maybe this was all an elaborate plan to get even with him. Jonathan just gave him his back and hunched over his keyboard typing furiously. Turning off his station, Jack pulled the flash drive placing it safely in a pocket and headed to the far end of the lab where Dr. Levi was probably waiting for him.

"Please come in," Levi responded as Jack entered calmly into the messy office. Towers of papers and files lay scattered over every single free space on the floor. The supervisor motioned him to a lonely chair by his desk. After removing a few files that were on it onto the floor, Jack took a seat.

"You said it was urgent," Jack started not able to stop fidgeting nervously on his seat.

"Yeah. Security allowed me access to some disturbing video from early this morning right here at the lab and I wanted to hear your side of the story."

"I don't understand…disturbing, sir?"

"You and Dr. Crane…in a fight?"

_Crane…that slimy little toad_, Jack thought combing his wild brown curls with a hand. He had not even been working here for two weeks and he was already in trouble. _Thanks Spooky._ That idea of flipping burgers at McDonald's was looking very nice now. Maybe that will be his next job after Levi fired him.

"Oh, that…that was just a misunderstanding. I already apologized to Dr. Crane."

"What was the misunderstanding, Mr. Napier?"

"I thought he had left his flash drive on the computer. I just wanted to make sure that the information on the drive would not leave the lab so I tried to retrieve the drive and return it to Dr. Crane when he arrived later. Didn't work that well."

"No, it didn't. Dr. Crane is very…concerned about his research. It's very important to him."

"You don't have to tell me that. He showed me, very clearly." Jack responded smiling languidly.

"I saw that…and that is exactly what concerns me. I do not need my employees to behave like street bullies, but rather like men of science. What we do here influences lives out there in the real world. We're trying to build a better Gotham."

_Yeah, killing willing experimental subjects with poison gas,_ Jack thought to himself. He nodded silently. "I know sir. I really tried to avoid conflict at all cost."

"I know you did. What I saw was not just video, Mr. Napier." Jack hunched over. Security in this place was tighter than a prison, and he had to be careful of what he did or said in the future. Suddenly, his job reminded him of a concentration camp.

"I'm sorry sir. It will not happen again."

"I know it will not. And just because so far I have no complains about your work I will not take this any further, but I expect more of you in the future. This is not a comedy club, Jack. This is a research laboratory and demands you take your job seriously."

Jack bit his lip and nodded. What did this guy had against comedy? He was just like that Wayne guy, all stiff and humorless. "I will, sir."

"Good, now that we've settled this, just wanted to ask you if you saw what Dr. Crane was working on?"

Jack eyed Dr. Levi suspiciously, not understanding where he was heading with the question. He suspected he was just being sure he wasn't spying on fellow researchers.

"I really don't remember. I wasn't paying attention the research content, just wanted to shut the computer down."

"I see. It is a nervous gas to be used by the military. That is all it is."

"I guess...Like I said, I don't remember what it was." Jack shrugged. "My thing is material analysis."

"Yes, your fire retardant fabric. I heard you were progressing with the project." Jack nodded silently. "Just stay with that project. It will help save lives of a lot of firemen."

"Sure, sir. I will give it my best." Jack said almost emotionless. Maybe smiling will make it less obvious to Levi that he had no interest in any project from this division anymore.

Dr. Levi smiled back. "That be all for now. You can leave. Have a good lunch Mr. Napier."

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Talon sat comfortably on the Owlplane's co-pilot seat when he noticed that this was not the usual route back to the Cave. He leaned over the GPS system at the main console to check his location, but Owlman turned the small screen off before he could read the coordinates.

"Hey!" Talon protested. "You didn't tell me we were not heading back home. Actually you have not said anything ever since we left the Syndicate's headquarters."

"There was nothing to say and where we are going is not important."

"I know you. You're planning something very sneaky."

Owlman turned and glared at the young man who silently recoiled into his seat. "When I have something I would want to share with you, I will. Right now I want you to take charge of the Luthor plan. I want to have my claws around baldy's neck before Ultraman."

"But you promised Ultraman the kill…"

"And since when do I care? Anything can happen between now and when Luthor falls. He might even die before Ultraman or I could get his hands on him."

"I see what you're trying to do," Talon responded crossing his arms over his chest. "And that is not going to make Big-U veryhappy."

"Are you defying me?" Owlman warned turning the plane north-northwest. His tone gruff and dangerous.

"No, I'm just saying. We might want to pull the red Kryptonite in case we need to subdue the brute...just in case."

"Good thought. I'll make sure I pull a few rocks from our base in the Artic."

"Is there where we are heading?"

"I told you not to concern you with that. Take the mini Viper and head back to Gotham and once there I want you to get ready for the most important mission of your life. I want you to learn everything about Special Projects, because I'm going to assign you there and I want you to keep an eye on Crane. I will find that spy…and I will find Luthor."

"Yes, sir."

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

It was already dark when Johnny Flanders arrived at the old dilapidated warehouse by the Gotham River. It had rained all afternoon, and the unpaved parking space was now a thick mass of thick muck, that forced the car to move very slowly towards the back of the warehouse. It was even harder to move when he didn't have the lights on, but he didn't want to alert anybody of his presence. Flanders finally parked by the northern wall and started to move some backpacks from the back seat when a wet noise caught his attention. He turned calmly and saw the mountain of scales and fanged teeth looking down at him from ten feet above. Thick spit dripped from the white gleaming fangs. The large figure growled and Johnny smiled.

"Hiya, Croc. Lovely evening, isn't it?" Flanders responded going back to his luggage. "For a reptile, I mean."

"Funny, Jericho. You sssshould be careful, don't know what lurksssss in the darknessssss." The tall figure hissed as he helped the man with his bags.

"Thanks, but I think that with you around I don't have anything to worry about."

"Not here. Not tonight." Crock responded with a toothy grin that looked more like a menacing snarl.

"Luthor's here?"

"He's waiting for you inssssside."

"Great. Can you leave the bags somewhere for our scientists to take a look? I'm sure they will find the equipment interesting."

Croc nodded as he grabbed the bag with one of his large black claws and with a powerful leap disappeared from sight. Jericho adjusted his trench coat to protect him from the soft drizzle still falling and headed to the entrance. Once inside the warehouse, he hung his wet coat on an old screw protuding from one of the metal supporting columns and entered the improvised mess room. Lex Luthor sat at on an old brown armchair holding a small picture in his hand that he stared at lovingly. Around his neck hung a pendant in the shape of a shooting star, the last reminder he had of his wife. It wasn't difficult to guess who's photo Luthor was holding in his hand.

"Commander Luthor?" Flanders said to announce his arrival. Lex folded the picture and secured it in a pocket as he stood to greet his friend.

"Good you could make it, Jericho. What news you have for me?"

"I bought some prototypes that our contact at Lumon Industries was able to sneak out. Some type of light weapon that I'm sure we can use to fight Power Ring or his minions," Jericho said shaking hands with the League's leader. "And sir, they just opened a new Division at Wayne's. They call it Special Projects and Crane is now working in that division."

"Special Projects, hmm?" Luthor said offering Jericho a seat in front of him as he sat back on his chair. "Knowing Mr. Wayne's close relationship with the Syndicate I don't doubt that division will continue developing weapons for them. Do you know what they do over there?"

"I talked to one of their employees but couldn't get much out of him. He's been only two weeks on the job."

"I don't know why Wayne moved Jonathan to that division, but we have to regain contact with Crane before he changes his mind again. We need to find someone close to our target. Someone Jonathan could trust."

"I know, sir, but I'm sure Wayne suspects by now that the attack on his divisions was an inside job and might have coerced Crane."

"I would like to know what Wayne has on Crane. It has to be something big."

Jericho shrugged. "I don't know. But at least we know someone else on that division. He might be able to get close to Crane."

"So you're suggesting this guy you just met, whose alliances we don't know, could help us? That's a risk I'm not willing to take, Jericho. I don't want anybody else dying because of me. Not after Astra...or the others."

"He doesn't like the Syndicate."

"How…Did you use your power to read minds by touch? Jericho, you know how dangerous it is to play around like that inside Wayne's Enterprises. They could tie you to me and that is something neither you nor I can afford now."

"Just a slight trick of the hand, sir. He didn't even notice, but his hatred for the Syndicate is real and powerful. And since he arrived after our attack, nobody will tie him to us. Maybe if we approach him, he will be interested in lending a hand. After all, he works in the same division."

Luthor rested his chin on a crooked finger and thought intensely on what Jericho had said. It was risk enough to have moved to Gotham, home of the Syndicate's more ruthless member…Olwman to now put his trust in a totally unknown ally.

"I don't know Jericho. I don't like the idea."

"Why don't you let me make contact with him? A short background check and he loosening to us will give us a better idea of what team he plays for. I just don't want the Syndicate to get at him first. Looks like a good guy and probably willing to help."

"Alright, but no more showing off your powers inside Wayne's building, OK?" Jericho nodded. "What's this guy name?"

"Jack Napier."

"Napier…the comedian?" Luthor said with a disgusted look in his face. "You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. The same one."

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Jack found his car all by himself on the third floor of the multilevel parking garage close to seven thirty in the evening. So much for the idea of leaving early that day after the harsh reprimand in the afternoon, he thought walking slowly to his Honda CRV. He had to prove his supervisor he had what it took to be in that division and that he was reliable, so he opted to stay one extra hour of his shift to show his commitment. If only Levi would have just fired him, he would not feel now indebted to his boss for the charity of keeping his job. He hated to owe favors. That's how everybody got into the system and unknowingly joined the ranks of the Syndicate, because someone owed a favor to someone else somewhere. He just wished it wasn't him.

He opened his cell phone and placed a call as he arrived to his vehicle and reached for his keys.

"Hello, sweetheart? Don't wait for me for dinner. I still have to rehearse my act." He made a short pause as Harley responded. "No, no…everything is OK. Just had to stay a little longer that's all. They will appreciate that later, I'm sure."

Not finding his keys in his pants, he let down his small brown leather suitcase and searched in the front pockets.

"Don't worry, tomorrow's Saturday and I can sleep in late. OK. See ya later…alligator." Jack finally found the keys. "Love yah."

He put the phone away and wished he could tell her the truth about his extra hour. But that would just worry her, and he couldn't put that pressure on her now that she was expecting. Who knows what kind of damage unwanted stress could cause in a baby. He opened the car when he felt a cold hand over his shoulder that startled him. Jack swung his suitcase at a blurry figure that hardly had time to dodge the incoming attack. Napier held to the car and looked to the person now crouching timidly on the floor. Brown eyes glinted back behind the thick round glasses.

"Crane? " Jack said catching his breath. "Have you lost your mind? You don't do that to people man. God…you almost gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry, Napier." Jonathan said straightening up and dusting his pants. Even the cream long-sleeve shirt looked too big for the scientist's thin frame. "Thought you had heard me coming behind you."

"No, I didn't 'cause I was busy on the phone." Jack threw his suitcase on the back seat and picked up the keys he dropped when he was startled. "What do you want? I have not gotten near your computer today…I swear."

"I know you didn't. I just thought…Well, I think I owe you an apology for this morning."

"Well, that is OK. Good, yeah…it's OK." Jack stuttered taken aback by the scientist's attitude. He really thought that Crane was going to hate him for the rest of his life for even touching his flash drive. The scientist's attitude now was a lot less belligerent, and almost sincere.

"I just had…some issues with that research and I thought you were trying to … Anyways, forget it. I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted only if you forgive me for head-butting you in the lab. That must have hurt."

"It's fine. I deserved it. And you could have gotten me in trouble with Levi but you didn't and that…that was cool of you."

Jack shrugged. "Told you that I didn't want you get you in trouble. We're even."

There was a tense paused between them, each looking away as they fidgeted nervously. "It's late. Do you want to join me for some grub, my treat? I just want to make it up to you, somehow."

Jack looked at his watch. "I have not had time to rehearse, yet."

"We could get something fast and you could use an audience. Hard to rehearse if you don't know people will laugh, don't you think?"

"You got a point there," Jack said with a smile motioning to his car. "Wanna hop in?"

"Oh, no, no. I'll meet you at the restaurant. I'm thinking Santiago's at Miller's and Aparo's Way. You like Mexican?"

Jack hesitated for a moment then eyed Jonathan suspiciously. This was all just too weird for him, especially if Crane didn't want to ride with him. The brown expressive eyes were just too persuasive.

"Ok, but just tell me…Did you already see the dead body in my trunk?" Jonathan's eye opened wide as he unconsciously backed off a few steps. Jack smiled perversely. "Because hat would explain why you don't want to ride with me. And that would mean that I have to kill you now…nothing personal, Crane."

"What the…wha--?"" Crane sputtered nervously as he got ready to sprint away from here and call the closest law enforcer. Jack busted in a hysterical laughter.

"It's a Joke, Crane…just a joke." He said between loud guffaws. "Just getting even for almost causing me a heart attack."

"You're out of your fucking mind…" Jonathan said as the laughter spread readily to his mouth. Curiously it seemed that Jonathan had just started breathing again. "You know that?"

"Yeah, that is one psychiatrist told me a long time. He said that I would make a very good comedian…and here I am." Jack patted Crane on a stiff shoulder. "I'll see you at Santiago's, Jonathan. Ten, fifteen minutes?"

"Sure. Ramon, the owner, is a friend of mine. He will get us a good quiet table. Bye, see you there."

* * *

_For the Joker fans out there and specially for the Joker fan-fic writers, I have stablished the Jokerlady Never Ending Joker Project. A LiveJournal community dedicated to Joker. Here writers can collaborate in a Joker inspired story made up by a prompt to which authors will contribute to the plot, one chapter at the time, each chapter uploaded by a different author. At the end, we all had fun and the result is a nice coherent story written by a several authors to entertain the community. The site will also include articles to help with the dreaded Writer's Block. Everything to make our muses healthy, right? If the idea sounds something you might be interested on, please feel free to join me at ne_jkr_project in LJ. I'm also working on another Joker site, will update on that one when it is up and running._

Thanks for your support!


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